


In Theory

by wyvernlordminerva



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Ill-Advised Ballroom Dancing, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-15
Updated: 2019-08-15
Packaged: 2020-09-01 17:29:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,209
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20261836
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wyvernlordminerva/pseuds/wyvernlordminerva
Summary: Linhardt knows how to dance... in theory.





	In Theory

**Author's Note:**

> during my playthrough the only units on my squad who couldnt possibly become dancers were caspar and linhardt, which is… just a beautiful coincidence.

Lit up in golden hues and filled with the gleeful chatter of students and faculty, the grand hall is a sight to behold. On a special night like this, it’s all too easy to forget their earlier troubles with kidnappings and mysterious forces conspiring against the church. Even Edelgard, whose expression is usually scrunched in a delicate frown, wears an easy smile as she is whisked across the dance floor by suitor after suitor. Most of them, if Hubert’s glower is anything to go by, won’t feel quite so satisfied the next morning.

He ought to have stayed in his room. There’s nothing particularly wrong with the event, but perhaps he had overestimated how interested he was in a night of dancing and general merriment. The highlight so far was the drinks, which Linhardt had been impressed to find were genuinely alcoholic. At least, they _had_ been, until Seteth had noticed and had the good sense to pull them before the staff had to supervise a room full of a hundred drunken teenagers. Goddess forbid, that would have actually been interesting.

Instead of working on something productive, he’s spending his night bouncing from table to table, trying to avoid the occasional suitor who would try to ask him to dance. Rejections were so troublesome. This whole thing was so troublesome. Maybe he could sneak out while no one was looking-

“Hey, Linhardt!” He groans. Perfect timing as always, Caspar. “What’re you doing in the corner? I’ve been looking for you all night!”

Caspar actually looks quite smart in that suit of his, to Linhardt’s amusement. Unfortunate that he knew better. Linhardt stifles a yawn, trying to play off the fact that he’d been staring.

“Really? You’re tired already,” Caspar groans, sliding into the seat next to his. “Have you even danced with anyone yet?”

Linhardt raises an eyebrow. “Have you?”

“Yes, actually,” Caspar says.

“Really? I could’ve sworn you would trample any girl’s feet like an untrained horse.” Caspar grimaces and rubs the back of his neck in shame.

“Well...”

Linhardt chuckles. “I figured. Not many offers after that, huh? Well, if any more girls come by, I’ll send them your way.” He takes a sip of his champagne while Caspar sputters.

“Wait, you had offers? Why are you just sitting here, then?” Caspar asks. Linhardt shrugs.

“I’m not feeling quite up to pandering to any noble ladies tonight. It’s entirely too much work,” he says. “Frankly, I was about to sneak out before you came by.”

“C’mon, Linhardt, it’s the anniversary ball! You can’t just spend tonight in your room,” Caspar says. “Oh, wait, I have an idea!” 

Not a good sign. Linhardt silently mourns the unread tomes on his desk.

“Since you’re not doing anything, and I know you know how to dance-”

“In  _ theory. _ ” Linhardt corrects.

“-in theory, then you can teach me. Right?” Caspar grins, expectant. The objections die on Linhardt’s tongue.

“...Yes, I can,” he sighs. “But I don’t see why it has to be here, or now.”

“I’m not gonna let you leave the ball until you’ve danced at least once.” Caspar stands, offering his arm. “Please?” 

Linhardt feigns annoyance but allows himself to be guided onto the dance floor. He always was weak for that smile, wasn’t he? He hopes Caspar never notices.

The first problem arises before they even start.

“Okay, put your hand on my shoulder,” Linhardt says. Caspar blinks.

“What?”

“You’re shorter, so it’ll be much easier for me to lead,” he explains. Caspar frowns.

“But- wait, how am I supposed to learn anything if I’m doing the girl’s part?” he says. “I should lead.”

“Fair enough. Hand on my waist, then.” Linhardt casually drops his hand onto Caspar’s shoulder. Caspar, for some reason, is sputtering more than before.

“Hang on. Maybe we could both put our hands on each others’ shoulders?” he says. Linhardt frowns.

“You’re not going to be able to dip me without your hand on my waist to steady me,” he explains.

“D-dip?”

“I think you’re making this unnecessarily complicated,” Linhardt says, brow furrowing at Caspar’s gradually reddening face. Honestly, what had he been expecting? He’s acting like he’d never danced in his life.

...Hm. That poor girl.

“Fine, fine! Hand on waist!” Caspar finally gets into position, and Linhardt has to only slightly correct his grip. Progress.

“Okay, now you just need to follow my instructions,” he says. Caspar nods, a little more comfortable now that the awkwardness has passed. “Let’s start with a simple boxstep. First, move your left foot forward.”

Linhardt sees him lift his right foot and steps back before he can become the next victim of Caspar’s dancing. “Wrong left, Caspar.”

“Whoops,” is the only apology he gets before Caspar corrects himself. 

“Better,” Linhardt praises. “Now, here’s the tricky part. Bring your right foot up to your left, but don’t place it there. Slide it to the right.”

Caspar blinks. “Huh-”

“Now shift your weight to your right foot, and slide your left to meet it.”

“Er-” Caspar is slightly straggling behind Linhardt’s steps, but the other boy doesn’t seem to notice.

“Now step back-” Linhardt bumps into his chest. “Ugh. Please keep up, won’t you?”

“You’re talking kind of fast!” Caspar stammers.

“You have to step in time with the music,” he explains. “Left foot back, slide to the left-”

Caspar bumps into an unfortunate couple, too lost in each other to notice the pair of idiots stumbling behind them. They glare, but continue on their way.

“Sorry!” he calls. Linhardt steps on his foot while he’s distracted. “Hey! Aren’t you supposed to be the good dancer?”

Linhardt smirks. “In theory.” Caspar pouts.

Compared to the other pairs, they have all the grace of a couple of drunk baby deer and cause about as many problems. By the time the song has passed, the other dancers are quite irritated, and a sizable crowd of onlookers has formed to laugh at them. Caspar awkwardly wipes his hands on his jacket, frowning, while Linhardt pulls him outside.

“So,” Linhardt asks, “have you learned anything?”

“Yeah,” Caspar replies, looking downtrodden. “I think we should have stayed in our rooms.” Linhardt laughs.

“Actually, I’ve changed my mind on that,” he says. Caspar perks up in interest. “Despite how it may seem, I actually had fun.”

“Really? Yeah, I guess I learned a lot.” Caspar seemed to have regained his original cheeriness. 

“Perhaps, next time, we could try it with less… collateral damage,” Linhardt says.

“Yeah!” Caspar agrees, only for his smile to falter a moment later. “Wait, next time?”

“Of course. This experience has been quite… enlightening. And we haven’t even gone over the more complicated aspects, yet.” Linhardt places a hand on his chin. “You haven’t gotten the chance to dip me.”

Caspar looks as though he jumped out of his skin for a moment. “Ah, right, of course,” he replies nervously.

“Well, I must be off. My studies won’t research themselves.” Linhardt turns to leave before Caspar can rearrange his thoughts, and he’s left speechless, again.

“Wait, Linhardt!” he calls. Linhardt pauses and tilts his head, expectant. Something’s on his tongue, something he can’t quite conceptualize, and it dies before he can breathe it. “...Good night!”

Linhardt smiles. “Good night, Caspar.”


End file.
